


Death of Tragedy

by gypsiangel



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Gen, Graphic Violence, Memory Loss, Nightmares, Original Character - Freeform, Rape, hurt comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-02
Updated: 2015-02-18
Packaged: 2018-03-05 00:31:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3098324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gypsiangel/pseuds/gypsiangel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Later, in the hospital when the doctors and the police were trying to piece everything together, she couldn’t tell them what happened.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> As another quick warning, the beginning of this story starts with graphic rape and violence so read with caution. Feedback is always welcome and thanks for reading! :D

*~*~*

            “Have you ever seen what a shotgun blast to the back of the skull does to a person’s head?” The low words caught Adrienne Jane by surprise, as did the hardness of what she assumed was a shotgun barrel pressed against the back of her head. Her throat tightened and she didn’t think she could scream, even if she was a screamer. Which she wasn’t. She wasn’t the type to show her fear. She never had been. Being overweight and awkward all the way through elementary and high school, she’d put up with more than her share of bullies. The best way to deal with them was to show nothing. No fear, no hurt, and especially no anger. They had eventually stopped except for the occasional snide remark or fat joke. Now even though high school was ten years and fifty pounds ago, AJ still carried the old habits.

            She froze in place now, her hands tightening on her mail as her brain raced to try and figure a way out of this without getting her head blown off her shoulders. “Back in the house.” He was still speaking in a harsh whisper, like he didn’t want her to know who he was just yet. She knew most of the people in this town; it wasn’t that big. It was a small coastal down that depended on tourists to keep afloat. There were plenty of people that came and went, mostly artists and shop owners. AJ was an artist herself but she also worked full time as a receptionist at the local dentist’s office. She sold some paintings and sculptures but not enough to pay the bills. It was more of an ego thing. She created beautiful things. So take that, bullies that were working minimum wage at the gas station and Walmart.

            Silently, AJ obeyed the gruff voice and the nudge of the gun barrel and went back toward the small cottage home she owned. It wasn’t big, with only one bedroom in the back, but the space was well used and she had all of the modern amenities. Her kitchen was nice and big, open with lots of windows and light colored appliances. The living room was cozy, the furniture arranged around a huge brick fireplace that she still used for heat. Her furniture was in earth tones, slightly shabby because she didn’t believe in spending a lot of money on something that would just be ruined eventually. Dimly, she thanked whoever was listening that her two cats were currently at the vet’s office getting neutered. She didn’t want them mixed up in this mess. She realized that she was mentally babbling, thinking about anything but what was about to happen, or what might happen.

            She was scared. Who wouldn’t be scared? Superman? Wonder Woman wouldn’t be scared. She almost smiled at the thought but was too scared to move. Even in mortal peril, she was still a nerd. Her would be attacker shut the door behind him and her sharp ears heard the click of the deadbolt sliding into place. “What do you want?” she asked quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

            He laughed and the sound sent chills down her back. “Turn around, Sweetness.” She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and turned around. Her blood froze at the sight of him. She knew him. She saw him every day on her run. On her way home from work. She saw him everywhere, but only knew him well enough to speak pleasantries. He was young, about five years younger than she was, and handsome in an underappreciated way. Sandy blonde hair fell down into wide blue eyes, lending an almost innocent look to him. If it wasn’t for the dark, gleaming quality of his eyes and the shotgun he held in his hands, she wouldn’t have been so terrified.

            She’d always thought he was cute and there were a few times she wanted to strike up a conversation and maybe ask to go to coffee or something. But there was a big part of her that was still the chubby, awkward girl that was scared to have too much interaction with people. “What’s going on, Jacob,” she asked now, eyebrows coming up in surprise.

            “Don’t act coy, AJ,” he said, his voice not quite angry. “You know what I’m here for.”

            “No, I don’t,” AJ insisted, waving her hands a little bit. There was a slow burn of anger under the fear now. “If this is some kind of joke…”

            “I’m not joking,” he said, taking a step towards her, his face darkening. She stepped back, trying to keep some distance between them. “I’ve been watching you, Adrienne. I follow you on your run, watching the way your muscles move. I watch you in your garden. You look so beautiful with your hands in the dirt, so peaceful. You don’t think anyone pays attention to you, to anything you do. But I do. I see everything.”

            “Then why not talk to me without putting a gun to my head?”

            He smiled and AJ’s blood ran cold. “Because I want you. I want you for mine and only mine.”

            “Again, why the gun? You could have asked me, talked to me like civilized-“

            “There is nothing civilized about the way I feel about you,” he cut her off, stepping towards her again. She stepped back and bumped into the coffee table. “I don’t want anyone else looking at you, talking to you, touching you.”

            “So what? You’re going to kill me so no one else can have me?” Her voice had an edge to it now, and the internal shaking was making its way outward. This wasn’t happening. This was some kind of freakish nightmare and she was going to wake up any minute, relieved to find herself still in her bed. But his hand was definitely real and solid as it grabbed her arm, stopping her retreat. The grip was hard and bruising and she wanted to scream but couldn’t.

            “I don’t want to hurt you,” he said, contradicting his own actions. His face softened and he closed the space between them, propping the gun against the back of her armchair. His other hand reached up to caress her face and she carefully made sure she kept her eyes on his. She let tears well up and he softened a little more. “Adrienne, my darling, don’t cry.” The hand he held her arm with let go and transferred to the small of her back, firmly pulling her closer. She didn’t want to fight him yet, wanting to wait until the perfect time. He was bigger and stronger than she was and completely insane. She had no idea what he was going to do.

            Mind going crazy trying to figure a way out of this without getting raped or killed or both, AJ pressed her hands against his chest and just held them there. She could feel his heartbeat through his t-shirt, a steady, fast beat. Oh, God. This was real. This was really happening. “Why didn’t you talk to me before,” she asked softly. “If you’ve been watching me, you know that I’m shy. I have problems striking up conversations.”

            “You’re so beautiful,” he said reverently and leaned in to press his lips against her forehead. _Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God._ She closed her eyes briefly, heart tripping with fear and stomach rolling nervously. “I can’t see you being shy. You smile and flirt with the others. You talk to them, you touch them.” There was anger in his voice now and his grip tightened again. He fisted his hand in her braid, jerking her head back so that she was looking at him. Eyes glittering, his upper lip curled in fury. “Don’t lie to me Adrienne.”

            “I-I,” she didn’t know what to say and real tears fell this time and she knew for certain that if she didn’t figure a way out, she was going to die. “I’m sorry Jacob.” She didn’t know what she was apologizing for, but that was the only thing she could think of. “I don’t see where other pe-people see me as-“

            “Shh,” he whispered and then, still gripping her hair, kissed her. His mouth pressed against hers and she instinctively tried to pull away. She tried to move her head, but he held her in place. His embrace tightened and she could feel the barely restrained rage trembling under his tense muscles. He pulled away and she tried to stop herself from struggling, but the fight or flight instinct was kicking in and she didn’t have that much control over it at this point. She pushed at his chest, trying to break away but he gave her hair a vicious tug that made her cry out.

            “Please don’t,” she pleaded finally, hating herself even as the words left her mouth. “Please, Jacob, I-“

            He snarled at her and flung her away so hard she tripped over the coffee table and went crashing into the fireplace. Cracking the side of her forehead on the stone, she cried out again as pain blossomed quick and blinding. He was pulling her up then, only to slam her back down on the floor. She felt boneless, like a rag doll as her head bounced off the floor again and her arms refused to work for a second. Then she felt his hands under her shirt, gripping, bruising, and hurting. “No,” she said weakly, then stronger, “No!” Her hand searched for the fireplace poker she knew was there. She had heard it clang and crash.

            Turning her head to the side, her eyes blurry with pain and tears, she saw the heavy antique iron fireplace set she had scored at the local thrift shop. He shoved her bra up over her breasts, his ragged nails scraping the sensitive flesh. One hand was reaching for the iron poker, the other vainly trying to shove him away, and the scream that wanted to come out was lodged in her throat. She could feel the cool metal just at her fingertips. Just a little farther.

            Jacob bit her neck, hard. Pain rocketed down through her shoulder and she immediately screamed out, gripping his hair in her fist and jerking as hard as she could. He snarled and backhanded her, rocking her face to the side. Lights burst behind her eyes and by the time she came back her skirt was up around her waist and hands had ripped the thin cotton of her panties. _No, no, no… Oh, please._ She pushed at him, kicking with her legs as she tried to get her knees between them, to do something, _anything_ to get him away.

            “Don’t fight me Adrienne,” he warned, holding her head pinned to the brick surrounding the fireplace by gripping her hair in a tight fist. He whispered hoarsely in her ear as his other hand freed his erection from his pants. She sobbed, feeling the motion from where he was pressed so tightly against her. “Please, baby, don’t fight me. This’ll be good, I promise. I’ve been thinking about you for so long.”

            “No, Jacob,” she tried to shout, but it came across as a low, coarse cry. “Don’t do this, please!”

            He buried his face in her neck as he shoved her knee out and up, sliding home in one harsh thrust. After that it was as if the rational part of her brain shut off and her body moved to save her life. There was no more thinking, just reacting.

            Later, in the hospital when the doctors and the police were trying to piece everything together, she couldn’t tell them what happened. It was as if there was nothing there, a vicious black hole where her memory was supposed to be after she stepped inside her little cottage with the psychopath behind her and the cold pressure of the shotgun barrel against the back of her head.

            Did she remember what she did to her attacker? No. Disassociation was the word the hospital psychologist labeled it as she sat next to AJ’s bed. She couldn’t remember what happened because it was too horrible for her mind to comprehend. The choice words scared her. What had she done? Oh, God. What had been so bad that she couldn’t remember? She knew the man who attacked her. Was she raped? Yes. But she’d already known the answer to that. She knew her own body and there was a horrible soreness that made her turn her head aside in humiliation. Plus the bruises… there were fingermarks on her hips, on her thighs… on her breasts. There was a chunk of flesh missing from her shoulder and it hurt whenever she moved, but it didn’t bring any kind of memory with it. Her face was a mess of bruises and cuts; her wrists carried more of the awful finger-shaped bruises and her own fingers ached.

            The police detective that spoke with her assured her that she wasn’t in any trouble, that there was enough evidence that she had acted in self-defense. But there was a note of wariness in his eyes when he looked at her. She asked what she’d done to her attacker. Why were they so hesitant to ask about it? Why did they look at her like that? Why were they so careful to tell her she wasn’t going to be arrested, so quick to assure her that she’d only acted to save herself? The well-meaning psychologist had forbidden them from telling her, saying that it was too soon to be confronted with it. They had asked her if she wanted the morning after pill, to make sure there wasn’t an unwanted pregnancy. She took it without much thought.

            Two days later, she was released from the hospital. Stepping inside her cottage, she gagged at the smell of old blood and stepped right back outside onto her porch. Her sister wrapped her arms around her and held her until the shaking eased and she felt like she’d be able to stand again. There had been professional cleaners in to make sure there were no reminders of the incident. Everything was back to where it was supposed to be. It was all back to normal. It was supposed to be back to normal.

            She tried to go back inside again, breathed through her mouth and tried to look at everything as if her entire world hadn’t been shattered; as if she hadn’t done something so horrible that she couldn’t remember it. There were minor differences. Her shabby, comfortable furniture had been replaced with a new living room set. Her sister explained that it was a gift from her and their parents. AJ didn’t ask about it. Her cats were at her mother’s, safe and sound and shredding everything they could get their tiny demon claws into.

            Breathing through her mouth worked for the first two minutes, then she could taste the heavy cloying copper at the back of her throat. Her sister stayed the night and crawled in bed with her when she screamed out in terror from the unnamed nightmares that chased through her head and disappeared the moment she woke, leaving her breathless and sick.

            Two weeks later, AJ was on the phone with an uncle she hadn't seen since her college graduation. He’d kept in touch with her through the years with phone calls and cards at holidays and birthdays. He’d made the offer to put her up for a week or two if she ever decided to go visit DC. When her mother had suggested him as the person to talk to about relocating, she hadn’t thought too hard about it. There was no hesitating on his part; apparently her mother had already called and filled him in on the situation. Arrangements were made, the cottage put up on the market- fully furnished, her clothing, personal belongings and cats were packed up, and she was on her way to Washington DC.

*~*~*


	2. Chapter 2

*~*~*

            “Aaron, I’m going to need a couple days.” SSA Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner looked up at his friend and teammate, David Rossi and took in the grave look on the other man’s face.

            “I hope everything’s all right.”

            Dave sighed and shook his head. “Not exactly. My niece, AJ, is coming to stay with me for a while. She was attacked in her home by a familiar face almost a month ago and her mother just contacted me yesterday. AJ herself called today. She doesn’t remember anything past being forced back inside her house by gunpoint.”

            “I take it you called the detective in charge.” Aaron’s eyebrows lowered as he set down his pen and focused his entire attention on Dave.

            “Yeah, I called and spoke with one of the most dull-witted idiots to ever wear a badge. It’s a small town and this was out of their league. Of course it was considered a one-time thing and they didn’t need to call in any help. No one knows what happened during the time they were inside, but the evidence shows that she went into a defensive, instinctive state.”

            “What was the result?”

            “She beat the man to death with a fireplace poker,” Dave informed him, worry thick in his voice. “AJ isn’t violent, Aaron. I’ve known her since she was born. Her mother is my first wife’s sister, we divorced when AJ was thirteen. Aileen and I never had kids, and I thank God every day that we didn’t, but AJ and her sister were as good as ours. Those girls nearly lived at our place. I kept in touch.”

            He swallowed hard and continued, looking a little sick. “The police aren’t charging her with anything and the detective I spoke to said that her injuries alone tell the story of self-defense. She was raped and beaten severely and there was head trauma that might have contributed to the memory loss, and he bit…”

            He stopped and closed his eyes briefly. He looked sick. “Her attacker bit a section of flesh from the crook of her neck, right where it meets the shoulder. It’s going to scar.”

            “This is the first time something came so close to home,” Aaron accurately commented. “We see this kind of atrocity every day, but it’s different when it’s someone we know and love.”

            “I don’t care that she killed him, or that the police didn’t do much toward investigating. I… I don’t know how to deal with something this close. I can deal with grieving families and trauma vics, but when it comes to… Hell, Aaron, I’m in over my head.”

            “If it means anything, I think you’re doing the right thing.” Aaron’s half smile didn’t do anything to comfort him. “You’re exactly the right person to help her. And if a fresh start is what she needs, then she came to the right place. She won’t have to worry about finding employment right away and she can just focus on her recovery. And I know the rest of us will step up as any kind of support you two might need.”

            “I want to go over the case files myself,” Dave admitted, taking a deep breath. “I want to examine the man who did this, to look into his background and profile his behavior. I want to be able to tell AJ… I want to be able to explain it to her as best I can when and if she asks about it.”

            “Feel free to ask Garcia for her help,” Aaron said, then smirked to break the tension, “Just make sure not to barge into her apartment unannounced. She’s still twitchy about the last time.”

            Dave groaned and ran a hand down his face. “I’m never going to live that down, am I?”

*~*~*

            She looked smaller than what he remembered from her college graduation, more fragile. Dave stood just outside of airport security and watched as his niece carefully maneuvered through the throngs of people departing the gates. The clothes she wore hung on her frame a little, as if she had recently lost a bit of weight, but not anything significant. Her jeans sat low on her hips, the faded denim ripped at the knees and pockets, showing a pair of black leggings underneath. She wore an oversized black and orange OSU Beavers sweatshirt, fingerless gloves, and a black and dark red knit hat pulled down over her short blonde hair. It looked like she hadn’t aged a day since her graduation, in fact she looked almost unbearably young under the fading bruises that he could see under the careful makeup and thick framed glasses she must have picked up before leaving home.

            AJ had worn contacts ever since her parents had allowed her to when she was fourteen. He had the picture she’d sent him framed on the wall that was devoted to her and her sister. It was as if the moment he noticed the bruises on her face, he noticed everything else. She was moving slowly, her carry on backpack held in one hand instead of slung over her shoulder. She had stopped just inside the security line to stand near the wall to scan the crowd for him and he recognized the need for her to have a wall at her back.

           He stepped forward when her eyes caught him and she smiled a greeting, her face falling into the familiar happy lines he remembered. But it was shadowed as she came toward him, her blue eyes a shade closer to gray as he opened his arms for a welcoming hug. Dave wouldn’t have been surprised if the embrace had been awkward and stilted, so many rape survivors were touch-shy especially around males. But AJ melted into him with a sigh, dropping her backpack on the floor to wrap both arms around his waist. “Uncle Dave, thank you.”

           He held her carefully, but firmly until she was ready to pull back. “You look exhausted, kid,” he said when he looked down into her battered face.

          “I am,” she admitted. “Not really one with the sleeping lately. I grabbed a couple hours on the flight, but I had a kid kicking the back of my seat all the way from Denver.”

          “Should have said something and I’d have transferred you to first class,” Dave said and took her backpack. “The critters made it yesterday, safe and sound. They’re waiting for you in the guest cottage and I put covers on the furniture like you asked, even though it’s not necessary.”

           Her laugh was just like he remembered it, though like her smile, it was lacking something small but vital. If he wasn’t trained to notice everything, he would have missed it. “Uncle Dave, they’d destroy your nice, very expensive furniture in a matter of days and then we’d both be upset.”

          “It was your aunt that was obsessed with the expensive, kiddo,” he reminded her as they moved toward baggage claim. “I think I can afford to replace a couple couches. The rest of your things arrived with the furballs. I’ll let you put them away as you like.”

          “I can’t tell you thank you enough,” she said as they watched for her large red duffle bag. “I… I couldn’t stay there anymore and I know there’d be a massacre of the bloodiest kind if I had to stay with my parents or Annie for longer than a week. I’ll be looking for work as soon as… as soon as…” She couldn’t say it, and Dave felt his heart tug painfully. He put his arm around her and very gently squeezed her.

          “I said it before and I’ll say it again, Adrienne, you can stay for as long as you need to. There’s no pressure for you to find your own way anytime soon. The guest house is just sitting empty and I was thinking about renting it out anyway just to get some use out of it so it doesn’t start smelling musty. There’s no hurry to go back to work, but if you feel better about it, we can work out an official lease when you’re ready.”

           Tears shone in her eyes and she ducked her head. He kissed the side of her head and grabbed the duffle bag as it came closer. He remembered it as the same one she’d used when she’d visited him the last time. “Are you hungry?”

            “I could eat,” she answered, taking the out he offered, and her backpack which she pulled out of his hands. “I can carry at least one. My bag’s a bit on the heavy side. I don’t know why I packed so much when I was just going to be flying in and the rest of my stuff is already here. I guess I wanted to be prepared just in case my flight was delayed or something.” She was rambling but couldn’t stop herself. It was inane chatter to fill the silence and she hated herself a little bit for it.

             Seated in his luxury SUV, she turned the conversation toward him. “So, you’re out of retirement? Was it hard to get back in the swing of things?”

             “Not really,” Dave said as he easily navigated the heavy traffic surrounding the airport. “I don’t think I ever actually stopped. With my writing, I still kept myself immersed in the job one way or another. Going back officially just made it more satisfying.”

              “Do you think the academy would accept me,” AJ asked quietly after a little more back and forth talking. They were nearly in his neighborhood and it had been on the tip of his tongue to ask her if she felt like Italian for lunch. He just pulled into a convenient parking spot a block away from his favorite little mom and pop place that served excellent pizza and breadsticks. When they were parked, he turned to look at her.

              “I’m not sure,” he answered truthfully. “I’m sure that you could go into criminal justice and law enforcement, kiddo, but the guidelines for the FBI are a lot stricter than most institutions. We could definitely look into it if that’s what you really want.”

            She looked down at her hands linked in her lap. “I don’t know what I want, Uncle Dave. I can’t remember exactly what happened to me or what I did, but I hate this sick, unsettled feeling. It’s like I’m waiting for something to jump out and… and I can’t even put it into words. I’m not weak, I’ve never been weak or fragile or your typical damsel in distress and feeling like that now is irritating. I guess I want to do something to take that feeling away.”

            “I can help you with that,” Dave squeezed her hand and gave it a little shake. “Let’s go eat and then get you settled in, then we can discuss giving you back some of that security. You’re gonna be fine.”

            “I know,” she said on a sigh and reached for the handle to let herself out of the vehicle. “I don’t really have any other options, do I?”

*~*~*

            AJ was greeted by a chorus of meows and thudding feet the moment she stepped into the ‘guest cottage’ her uncle had offered her. It was about the same size as her home in Oregon… her _old_ home, she corrected herself silently. It had been two weeks since she’d put it on the market and there were already three offers. Her father had stepped in to take care of the particulars of the sale and she’d let him. He hadn’t quite understood why she had moved so far away, but it wasn’t his way to argue or press the issue. Her mother, on the other hand, was very vocal in her support of whatever AJ felt she needed to do. She’d cried of course, and she’d made sure that her youngest knew that she wasn’t pushing her away and that she wanted more than anything to keep her little girl right next to her and safe. But she understood that AJ needed to be completely removed from the situation.

            And Isabelle knew that her sister’s first husband had the means to keep AJ safe while she healed. There wasn’t anyone else she’d trust her damaged daughter to. Things between Aileen and Dave had ended abruptly and with considerable venom on both sides, but she’d liked her first brother in law… almost more than she’d liked her sister at times. They’d kept in contact through the years and she was glad of it now.

            “Babies!” AJ lowered herself to the couch and picked up the nearest cat. The boys were still barely kittens, one a dark orange red, and the other a sleek black. She’d rescued them from an abandoned house in her old neighborhood, the rest of the small litter going to good homes with her coworkers. “Oh, goodness, babes, was it really that horrible? Cap’n, buddy, come here baby.” She cuddled the orange bundle as he meowed pitifully and butted his little head against her chin. The black cat stared at her from the edge of the armchair nearest the fireplace, yellow eyes narrowed in irritated distain.

            “Looks like the Captain isn’t the forgiving type,” Dave chuckled and bent down to rub at the cat’s ears, only to be thwarted when the feline easily evaded and disappeared into the depths of the cottage with a disgruntled hiss.

            “I’ll find him sleeping on me the moment I slow down long enough.” She rubbed her face on the kitten’s head, closing her eyes as she soaked in his happy purr.

            “Weasley isn’t as dignified. He doesn’t mind being an attention whore.”

            Though not really a cat person, Dave found himself charmed by the feline who fixed him with golden eyes flecked with brown and purred a bit louder when he reached a hand to rub at the ears. “Thank you for letting me bring them with me, Uncle Dave,” she said after a minute, getting up and letting the animal down to the floor. She brushed at her clothing and went to gather the duffle bag from where he’d placed in near the doorway.

            “They’re like a therapy all on their own,” he told her with an indulgent smile. “And I know what I’m getting into. Your mother made sure to tell me all about her new sofa that got shredded.”

            “I didn’t have time to tell her to put blankets over the furniture.” AJ’s expression darkened. “It all happened so fast. I’m glad they were at the vet’s office when… I don’t know what I would have done if they’d gotten hurt in the ruckus.”

            “I have a surprise for you.” Dave took the duffle bag from her hand and dropped it back on the floor before taking her elbow, changing the subject when she slipped into silence.

            “You didn’t have to,” AJ protested a little as she was led toward the back of the cottage and into what she remembered as the sunroom. She froze at the sight of the art studio he’d set up for her. Two easels were arranged near the large bank of windows and there was a couple more leaning off to the side. Each one had a blank canvas already set up and the large oak cabinet against one wall had its doors open to show shelf after shelf of art supplies. “Oh, God, Uncle Dave, you’ve already done so much for me, you didn’t have to…”

            “I know I didn’t,” Dave assured her softly. “But I have it on good authority that art is a good way to get past the psychological blocks we tend to put up when we’ve been faced with severe trauma.”

            “Art therapy,” AJ murmured, moving further into the studio to touch the easel closest to the door. The sunroom had always been one of her favorite places when she and her sister had come to visit when they were teenagers. She’d brought her books and journals in here and spent hour upon hour in quiet meditation. She looked back at her uncle. “My mother asked you to do this, didn’t she?”

            “It was Annie, actually.” He searched her face, looking for any sign of displeasure or distress. “Your sister’s been taking psychology classes, you know.”

            AJ laughed and shook her head. Her sister could be a bit on the arrogant side, but she loved her. “You probably would have done it anyway. Annie’s… Annie. She’s worried about me and mother-henning. She wanted me to stay in Oregon.”

            “I think all of us are going to be more protective of you for a while, AJ. My work schedule is just as random as it always was, so I’ll be away from home a lot, but I’ll always be in contact. I have a list of numbers I want you to put in your phone so if there’s anything you need, you can get a hold of me.”

            “Uncle Dave, I’ll be okay,” she assured him quietly. Her eyes were dark in the sunlit room. “I’m a big girl, I can handle being on my own. I’ve lived by myself since college.”

            “I know, kitten, but humor me, please? I know you’re not ready to talk about what happened and I’m not going to push you. I’m not going to hover and be obnoxious, but when you need me, I’ll be here. The most independent people still need help sometimes. Those memories may be stuck right now, but they won’t always be.”

            “I know,” AJ sighed. “I’m sorry if I sound ungrateful-“

            “Listen to me, kid. I’m not going to get offended if you tell me to mind my own business.”

            “I won’t-“ AJ started to argue, then sighed and rubbed at her forehead. “All right, maybe I will at some point, but I’ll make sure to do it nicely.”

            “That’s my girl.” Dave grinned and then winced as a crash sounded from across the room. The orange cat was sitting on the windowsill, staring down at the shattered remains of a vase of flowers Dave had thought to add.

            “Life with cats,” AJ said and shrugged. “If it’s not nailed down, it gets knocked over.”

*~*~*


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :D Thanks for reading this, guys!

*~*~*

            “Garcia, I need your help looking up some stuff.” Penelope Garcia raised her eyebrows over at SSA David Rossi and immediately thought about the last time he’d demanded her help in ‘looking up some stuff’.

            “Personal, or professional,” was her cautious question.

            The smile he shot her was charming but not reassuring. “At least this mode of approach is better than the last, right?”

             “There is that,” Penelope snorted. The last time Rossi had come to her for personal help, he’d barged in her apartment while she was very happily naked in the shower with her fellow technical analyst and -then secret- boyfriend. That had been a while ago and she was happy to say that while her relationship with Kevin Lynch didn’t quite make it, she’d become a lot closer to the elder profiler. “Pull up a chair, boss-man and tell me what we’re looking for. And I really hope this isn’t going to be one of those ‘our little secret’ things because we all know I don’t do well with those.”

            “No, this isn’t anything like that. It is personal, though. My niece was attacked by a familiar face almost a month ago, raped and beaten. She’s here to live with me until she gets on her feet and I want to do some more digging into what happened to her. I want to find out everything I can about the scumbag that did this to her so that I can put it together for her when she asks about it.”

            Penelope made a sympathetic face and turned to her bank of computer screens. “Anything I can dig up is yours, sir.”

            “The man’s name was Jacob Hooper, age twenty three, last known address in Lincoln City, Oregon.”

            Fingers flying, she typed in the information and pulled up a picture of a fresh faced young man that looked like the type of guy someone would hand their kid to in the grocery store while they slipped into the restroom. Handsome in the boy next door kind of way, his sandy hair was worn longish and fell into a pair of honest blue eyes. Six foot two, nicely muscled one-ninety, no tattoos and no piercings. He’d been attending classes at the local community college and working part time at a machinist’s shop. Garcia’s lip curled in disgust. The man who had stalked and nearly killed her came back to the front of her mind and she snarled, “Why the hell would he feel the need to attack a woman? I know, I know… sick minds and all that. But seriously? I always have a hard time with the fact that almost all the unsubs you guys bring down are so _normal_. They should have horns and tails or something. Makes me want to go lesbian.”

            Despite the horrible nature of their task, Dave choked on surprised laughter. He shook his head, “I don’t blame you on that one, kid.”

            Penelope sucked in a breath as the crime details came up on her screen, all signs of amusement or teasing gone. Dave’s jaw went tight as the medical pictures of his niece came into view. Her face was bloody and swollen, lip split, eyes black, the cut over her temple fresh and raw. He remembered what it had looked like when she’d taken her cap off and ruffled her newly shorn hair back away from her forehead. It was healing, the stitches having been removed before she left Oregon, but it was going to scar. The police report was pulled up on one screen and the rest of the hospital photos were on the other.

            Everything was documented and Dave forced himself to look at it. It would have been easier to look away and just focus on the crime scene details. But there was a misplaced feeling of obligation to look and to see what had been done to the woman he’d always thought of as one of his own. At five eight, AJ was taller than average, her body toned, curvy, and far from being fragile. After high school, she’d implemented a lifestyle change that had transformed her into an amazon-like figure. The hospital pictures showed a broken, bruised, and bloodied girl that looked so much younger than she should with vacant eyes with pupils blown wide with shock. They had documented everything.

            After the third page, Dave stood up and silently left the room, closing the door behind him with a very careful click. Penelope jumped when she heard the muffled shout and the sound of crashing from the men’s room next door. She moved the medical pictures off the screen and into a different folder and pulled up the crime scene pictures of the cottage and the responding officer’s reports. By the time the elder agent came back inside, his rage was more or less contained and there was a center of false calm that seemed brittle. Penelope didn’t say anything, just waited for him to instruct her on what he needed to see.

            “Can you print this out for me? I’m going to look at this in my office while we wait for another case to come in.” He spoke too quietly, too calmly, and Penelope nodded.

            “I’ll bring it as soon as it’s done. Thank goodness for the age of computers,” Penelope said awkwardly, her infamous wit lost in the moment. She wasn’t used to this level of barely contained rage sitting right next to her. Dave wasn’t known as being the calmest, most patient, or even the nicest man, but since they had started working so closely together, the analyst hadn’t been subject to this coldly furious side of him. She was sensitive to the moods of others and this was making her nervous. She wanted to say something to break the tension, but she didn’t really think it was appropriate. Although she wasn’t exactly known for her tact, when there was ample warning, Penelope was a master of what to say to her people and when.

            “Thanks, Pen,” Dave said and squeezed her shoulder as he stood up. “I’ll let you know if there’s anything else.”

            “No problem, Stallion,” she said, winking as her fingers worked at their task. It earned her a quick grin before he stepped out.

*~*~*

_The weight fell on her, heavy and hurting, hands gripping and bruising. All of the strength she’d been so proud of was nothing compared to the heaviness of him, the surprise of the attack. Pain radiated from her head and her voice was lost in the pain of the… of the other. His face was buried in the bloody mess of her neck and shoulder, she heard his grunts and gasps as he worked himself into her. She turned her head to the side and saw the fireplace poker. It was closer than it had been. She stopped pushing at him, stopped trying to work her legs to escape his grip. Her hand was suddenly steady as she reached out and gripped the handle._

_It was heavy, long, and awkward. She wouldn’t be able to use it this close. She had to get him to back away. Her vision blurred again as she turned her face to look back toward the ceiling. She whispered, “J-Jacob, k-kiss me.” She was beyond nausea, beyond anything. She knew what she had to do._

_He groaned, gripped her hips tighter, pulled the angle higher and she couldn’t stop the whimper. But he pulled back to look down at her, his eyes black and face dark with her blood. It dripped from his lips, mixing with saliva obscenely as he came closer to press his mouth to hers. She waited, then when he was close enough, she surged forward and cracked her forehead against his nose with a sickening crunch._

_He screamed out in rage and pain, reeling back to give her the space she needed to swing the heavy iron._

            AJ woke up when she fell out of her bed, landing on the floor with a pained thump. Blind, disoriented, and unable to discern where she was, she pulled herself up on her knees, gasping air into oxygen starved lungs. Her stomach revolted and she vomited on the carpet. Thankfully there hadn’t been that much to come back up since her appetite hadn’t been exactly normal for a while. When she was done, she scooted back away from the mess and sat with her back against the side of the bed.

            Scrubbing at her face with her hands, she dug fingers into her eyes until she saw lights. As usual, the images from her nightmare faded as quickly as it had come, as if they were purged just as effectively as the contents of her stomach. Body aching and head throbbing, she couldn’t help but be grateful for small mercies. She didn’t want to remember. Wasn’t it enough to know that she’d killed someone? Wasn’t it enough to feel the aftermath of physical trauma without actually having the mental video playing over and over again? AJ thought so.

            After a few minutes she felt the sanity start to return and she pulled herself slowly up off the floor. Her uncle’s guest house. She was in Washington DC and she was with her family. She was all right. Everything was all right. She grabbed her robe from the hook on the inside of the bedroom and went into the bathroom. She would clean up the mess on the floor after she was done getting warm and clean. She'd become almost compulsive about bathing since she'd gotten home. Not wanting to sit or relax into what could potentially put her back to sleep despite the late- or early, depending on how you looked at it- hour, she stepped into the shower after letting it warm up to near scalding.

            As she let the water flow down around her, she tried to avoid closing her eyes even though she knew from experience that she wouldn’t see anything. She knew eventually that she _would_ see something though, and it terrified her. Right now it was only fear and rolling emotions that ranged from fragility to blind anger to sick hatred that was aimed both at herself and the man that had reduced her to this… this shadow of herself that was barely recognizable.

            Bowing her head back, she turned so the spray was hitting the back of her head. It was still strange not to have the heavy weight of her hair on her shoulders and back. After she’d gotten out of the hospital, she’d kept feeling a phantom grip, jerking her head back and holding her trapped in place with it. Every time she’d gone to brush it out or pull it into the usual braid, her fingers had fumbled and her chest had gotten tight with a now familiar tug of panic. Her mother had cried when they had gone to the salon to cut it. AJ hadn’t. She had watched, dry-eyed, as the stylist had deftly pulled it into a ponytail and drew the scissors across the thick mass.

            She had donated it to a wig charity, feeling numb even to the fact that it would go to help cancer patients or something equally important. The style she’d chosen was so different from everything else she’d ever had. It curled around her face and neck in gentle layered waves. After it was done, she stared at the girl in the mirror and listened to the woman ramble about how it was important to do dramatic changes here and there to keep things from stagnating, or something like that. Short, slim fingers had run through it gently, brushing on some spots that were still raw and sore.

            AJ had flirted with the idea of dying it. Her naturally blonde hair had been a source of pride, knowing that a lot of her former classmates had over processed and fried their hair trying to get it to the exact gold and white that AJ was born with. In the end, she had left it knowing that adding chemicals to her healing scalp would be a horrible idea.

            Now, though, she finally closed her eyes and let the water fall over her face and down her chest, and thought that maybe black would be a good color for her. Black with red, maybe? It was these insignificant thoughts that finally forced the tension out of her. When she reached for the soap, her hands were steadier. A self-depreciating chuckle escaped and she shook her head. She was in a new place with a new, uncharted future ahead of her, and here she was thinking about hair color. “Whatever it takes, love,” she murmured into the spray. “Whatever it takes.”

*~*~*


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :D Thanks for reading this, guys!

*~*~*

            “Hey, kiddo! You in here somewhere?” AJ heard the doorbell and the loud knock on the front door before she heard the booming voice of her uncle. The sound had startled her out of the zone she’d found herself in as she’d settled in front of a blank canvas and a palate of color. He must have used his keys to get in, because she could hear him in the living room. Hiding a twinge of irritation quickly, she blinked a few times to get moisture back into her eyeballs. It felt like she’d been staring without blinking for a while. Her hands and arms ached and she winced as she set the brushes into the cup of water to rinse.

            “I’m-,” her voice cracked and she swallowed hard, clearing her throat before trying again, “I’m back here in the sunroom.”

            He came around the corner quickly, his familiar smile easing more of the tension that she hadn’t realized was so tight in her shoulders and arms. She blinked more and started to rub at her eyes but realized at the last minute that her fingers were caked with paint. Grimacing, she grabbed a wet towel she’d automatically placed nearby for just this reason. “What time is it,” she asked, feeling strange. She remembered coming in here after her shower and setting up to paint around three am, thinking that she would try and get some of the rioting emotions out and into something tangible.

            “Nine-fifteen,” Dave answered, glancing at his watch. She turned to stare at him incredulously, mouth dropping open.

            “You have to be kidding me.” He stepped forward and caught her arm when it looked like her knees were going to buckle. Her face was white and smudged with flecks of paint from where she’d brushed her hair away from her face absently. She whispered, “I lost time. Oh, God. I lost time… It was three when I… when I came in to paint. I was going to try to calm down be-because I had a nightmare…” Her voice gained volume and speed as she spoke, getting more agitated.

            “Woah, AJ,” her uncle stopped her words gently, “Come here, let’s go sit down. I’ll get you some coffee and we can talk this through. I brought some bagels for breakfast. I have a colleague with me too, honey, if that’s all right. If it’s not, I can ask him to go.”

            AJ nodded, swallowing hard against the welling panic. This was bad. This was so very bad. She couldn’t be blacking out. The last time she’d blacked out, she’d killed someone. Horror was making her chest tight and she barely felt herself being led into the kitchen where there was another man dressed down in jeans and a white button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled to mid-forearm. Dave eased her into a hastily pulled out chair. He stroked a hand down her hair, squatting in front of her to look into her face more carefully. “Adrienne? Honey, I need you to take a deep breath.”

            She sucked in a shuddering breath and felt a little of the light-headedness ease. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back, wincing as it pulled on the tight, still healing cluster of muscles at the crook of her neck and shoulder. Another deep breath was pulled in and released. “I don’t remember staying there so long. I don’t remember anything beyond setting up the paints and brushes. I don’t know what I painted. Oh, God. Uncle Dave, I- I lost time again.”

            “You’re all right, AJ. You’re here with me and you’re safe.”

            “You don’t understand,” her voice rose just a little and her blue eyes glittered with tears as she grabbed his hands. “The last time I blanked out like that, I killed someone. I don’t remember, Uncle Dave. I don’t… I can’t have this happen to me anymore. I don’t know what I’ll do.”

            “Slow down and listen to me, kid,” he took her face in his hands and held her still, waiting to speak until he had her full attention. “The first time you lost time, you were fighting for your life. When the situation is too traumatic to deal with, there is a part of our minds that shuts us down while our bodies take over to do what’s necessary. It’s called…”

            “Disassociation,” AJ said, a little calmer, she closed her eyes and sighed. Her face crinkled and she pulled away to bury it in her own hands, hiding it from his intense gaze. “I know. I heard it from the psychologist at the hospital, and the detectives that came to talk to me. I know that’s what happened. But I wasn’t fighting for my life this morning. There’s no reason for me to block out my work.”

            “What did you dream,” the stranger that had come in with her uncle asked and she heard the click of a cup being placed on the table next to her. He had been busy brewing coffee while they’d been talking. She lowered her hands and looked up at him. He was dark haired and handsome, his serious face offset by a pair of compassionate chocolate eyes. She saw laugh lines around those eyes, and a small part of her wondered what he looked like when he smiled. It probably made him even more handsome, more approachable.

            “AJ, this is Aaron Hotchner, my unit chief at the BAU. We’re off this weekend, but he agreed to come with me to talk to you about what happened, to see if we could piece some things together and hopefully help you understand a little more.”

            She ran a hand back through her hair, wincing again when the soreness in her arms and shoulders was refreshed. “I- can you give me a minute? I’ll go change into real clothes and… And I’ll be right back.” Unsettled, she stood up unsteadily. Her uncle stood up too and watched her carefully as if to make sure she was all right.

            The moment she was in her bedroom, she went directly into the on suite bathroom and stripped out of the yoga pants and sweatshirt she’d put on after her shower the night before. The water went back on in the shower and she stepped in again. Five minutes later, after a quick and furious scrubbing, she stepped back out and wrapped in a towel to go in and get dressed. Another five and she was dressed in a loose pair of old overalls that she’d had in her closet since high school and a tie-dyed blue and gray shirt that had extra-long sleeves that covered half her hands. Pulling her knit hat back on over loose curls that she hadn’t washed again, she stared at her face in the mirror for a long moment before reaching for the eyeglasses she’d started wearing instead of contacts.

            At first, she’d started wearing them because they hid the black eyes and it was painful to put her contacts in when her eyes were so swollen. Then as the swelling went down and the bruising faded enough to be able to cover it with makeup, she found she liked the little bit of shielding. It felt almost like she had a barrier between herself and others, like they couldn’t really see into her as well. The eyes were the windows to the soul. A flash of soulless, blank eyes gone black with hideous intent went through her mind’s eye and she shook her head almost violently to get rid of it.

            Still cold despite the warmth of the cottage and her recent shower, AJ grabbed a black sweater on her way back out to rejoin her uncle and his colleague. When she stepped back into the kitchen, the men were both cradling cups of coffee and her uncle had started scrambling eggs and turkey bacon to go with the bagels. “I have no idea why you don’t have real bacon, kitten, but I’m planning on remedying that as soon as humanly possible.”

            “There’s thirty calories in a slice of turkey bacon, Uncle Dave, versus eighty in regular bacon. And that’s not getting anywhere near the sodium levels.” There. This felt normal; familiar. She’d had the same argument with her father on more than one family breakfast. Weasley was making a shameless bid for attention, rubbing himself all over the legs of her uncle’s friend’s jeans. She caught sight of a black tail sticking out from under the window blinds and knew that Captain was lurking just within reach, yet out of sight.

            “And I found fat-free, sugar-free coffee creamer instead of half and half.” His trademark crooked grin flashed at her even as his tone was mock-scolding. “With no sugar in the sugar bowl.”

            “Added sugar is against my religion,” she laughed and reached out for the coffee cup she’d abandoned on her quick exit. Now that she felt a little more stable, it was easier to drink half of the cold coffee so she could reheat it with a top up from the fresh pot. She glanced at Aaron Hotchner and her smile dimed only slightly. Her cheeks reddened with shy embarrassment and she commented, “I’m sorry, I must have made an awkward first impression.”

            “I’ve seen worse,” he smiled back at her. She felt the flush deepen. Her first impression of him had been right. The gentle movement softened his features and made his eyes lighter, younger. “There’s no reason to be embarrassed, Ms. McCoy.”

            “AJ,” she said on a sigh. “You’re in my kitchen about to have breakfast and you’re a friend of my uncle, so please, call me AJ.” She grimaced internally at how stilted she thought her words sounded. Her natural shyness was taking over, making her second guess whatever dialogue she might want to participate in. She wanted to just not say anything at all, to keep her mouth shut or go do something else. But they were here to see her specifically, and her awkward tongue would just have to deal with it.

            “And you can call me Aaron,” he replied smoothly, then glanced over at Dave. “Or Hotch, both work just as well.”

            “Hotch,” she asked, raising an eyebrow as she brought her coffee cup to her face, partly because she was seriously under-caffeinated, and partly because it gave her something more to hide behind.

            “It’s what the rest of the BAU team calls me. It’s easier than SSA Unit Chief Hotchner.”

            “Please tell me you have real butter instead of that plastic margarine stuff,” Dave interrupted, not trying to hide his smirk at the spark of connection he saw between his friend and his niece. He wondered if Aaron realized that he was exuding gentle alpha-male protective vibes. He’d seen it before with some of the survivors they dealt with, with women and children in particular, but there was something in the set of the younger man’s shoulders when he looked at AJ that was different. Maybe it was wishful thinking. Either way, it was too soon to tell for sure.

            “Yes, I do have real butter. You know how awful margarine is? It’s filled with chemicals and nastiness,” AJ answered and went to pull the butter dish from the table. She kissed his cheek on her way to wash her hands. “I had a chance to go to the market yesterday. You’ve got a good organics store a couple blocks away.”

            “Organics?” Dave raised his eyebrows and looked at her, mock-horrified. “Note to self: keep you away from Reid. I don’t think we could survive the flood of information we never wanted to hear about our food and where it comes from.”

            “Ah, he watches the documentaries?”

            “He’s a walking font of knowledge. If he doesn’t already know it, he’ll have the information in seconds. IQ of 187, and an eidetic memory so he remembers everything he reads,” Dave explained. “And he’s almost rabid about food quality and safety.”

            “As well as everything else,” Aaron interjected, affection evident when talking about their teammate. “He joined the BAU when he was barely twenty one.”

            “Wow,” AJ said, then laughed softly, “I’m not over informed about anything. I just don’t like the idea of over processed food. I’m definitely not a vegetarian by any standard, and I stay away from documentaries or too much information on how my food ends up on my table. I get squicky about weird things and knowing too much about my food will make sure I don’t eat. Anything.”

            “Because there is something odd about all food, no matter how organic or fresh,” Dave quoted with a smirk and a wave of the spatula. He winked over at her and then dished up the eggs and bacon. “I remember this conversation, oddly enough.”

            “I had to explain why I didn’t want to go on the tour of the Hershey factory,” AJ told Aaron as she pulled the bagels out of the toaster oven where they’d been warming. “Or the tour of the local dairy. Or watch any sort of food documentary that my sister was always hollering about.”

            “My son, Jack, is the same way,” Aaron confided. “I have to keep him away from Reid at meal times or he’d never eat.”

            “My parents lied to me a lot when I was growing up,” AJ’s smile felt easier, the tension easing with the flow of conversation. It was easy to slip into familiarity with her uncle and Aaron, their energies mingling smoothly with years of practice. There was more idle and inconsequential conversation as the three of them settled into eating breakfast.

            After they’d cleaned their plates and Dave had helped her load the dishwasher, they sat back down and AJ started, “I know you want to help me deal with this, but I don’t want to talk about it. I thought I wanted to remember, but I don’t. I don’t want to see it again.”

            “AJ, your memory will start to come back eventually,” Dave warned, taking her hand where it was lying on the tabletop. “Maybe not for a while yet, but wouldn’t you rather confront it on your terms rather than random flashes that come out of nowhere?”

            AJ felt the familiar pressing of tears behind her eyes. “I would rather not deal with it at all.” She sighed and looked at their joined hands. “But I don’t have a choice, do I?”

            “You do have a choice,” Aaron said, bringing her attention to him. It was easy to look at him, at the sincerity that exuded from his solemn eyes. She found herself listening intently to what he had to say. “You can hide and hope that your memory doesn’t come back, or you can face it head on. Dave was saying that you were asking about taking back some of the control in your life, that you felt helpless and weak. It won’t be easy and it will definitely get worse before it gets better, but we can help you with that.”

            “Our team has offered to help you regain your security,” Dave told her and she looked at him. “When you’re ready.”

            She closed her eyes again against the rising upset that threatened. “I hate feeling like this,” she whispered thickly. “It’s not just… I’m not only scared shitless of… of… remembering or seeing it all again… I’m scared of myself. I’m scared of what I’m capable of- of what I did.”

            “AJ,” Aaron spoke with a compassionate gentleness that made Dave and AJ both turn to look at him. “Everyone is capable of things that frighten them. A person never knows until there’s no other option. What you did wasn’t done with premeditated malice. It was done in an extreme set of circumstances that made any other recourse impossible. Was it overkill? Yes. Was it unwarranted? No. Does it matter? No, it doesn’t. You’re alive and that’s what matters. You have the opportunity to move past this and heal from it.”

            “Maybe I shouldn’t be,” she choked. “Maybe I should have died.” She couldn’t finish her thought, but she didn’t have to. Dave stood up and pulled her into his arms, cradling her tight even though she pushed at him weakly before giving in and wrapping her arms around his waist and melting into sobs.

            “You’re here for a reason, Adrienne,” Dave murmured into her hair, stroking her back. “Honey, he was a bad man that did a horrible thing to you. You did what you needed to do.”

            Aaron watched the two of them silently, watching the younger woman trembling in his friend’s arms. He was going to do everything in his influence to give her back the power over her life. Dave had already called a team meeting to discuss what they could do to make her feel more secure. He was going to help her with the firearm training. Emily and Derek had offered to help with self-defense, Spencer was offering his knowledge of the college systems and what courses would most benefit what she wanted to do with the rest of her life, and Penelope had surprised them all with the extensive network of battered women’s support groups that she was more than willing to guide the other woman to and through. He was proud of his team and their willingness to rally around someone that they didn’t know except for Dave’s connection, but he wasn’t surprised. They saw enough evil through their work and when it touched them personally, even in a roundabout and secondhand way, they were the first ones to step in with a lending hand.

            When she pulled back, looking exhausted and defeated, Aaron felt something stirring that he hadn’t felt since long before his ex-wife had walked away from him and their son. Not quite sure what to make of it, he pushed it aside and stood to go gather a glass of water and give her a moment to pull herself together. Now was not the time or the place.

            Her whispered, “I don’t want to remember right now,” tugged at his heart and made him want to step in front of her as a shield, to take the brunt of the pain he knew was just around the corner. In order to truly heal, you had to face and purge the poison. He knew that better than most.

            He heard Dave assure her in his relaxed, easy tones, “You don’t have to right now, kitten. It’s enough for you to know you’re safe.”

            He turned and handed her the glass of water, dark eyes meeting light as she said miserably, “It’s easy to know I’m safe now, but what happens when you’re gone and I’m alone?” Looking away, she focused on taking a long pull of the water, then murmured, “Thank you.”

            Aaron couldn’t stop himself from touching her fingers gently, “We’ll work on making you feel safe, AJ, I promise.”

            Dave was looking at him strangely, his expression a mixture of concern, curiosity, and smug approval. Aaron ignored him and focused on the tremulous half-smile AJ sent up to him and the fact that she didn’t shrink away from him.

*~*~*


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is really short, but I needed to get it going. :) Thanks for the support and I really hope this doesn't disappoint.

*~*~*

            AJ’s first interaction with the entire team was a bit overwhelming and intimidating, to be completely honest. Her uncle had decided to have a team barbeque with all of their families and she wasn’t quite sure what to expect. There was a lot of food, laughter, and roughhousing with the boys and kids. She found herself sticking to the sidelines, keeping busy with helping her uncle with the food. It was a typical social gathering for her, at least at first. She wasn’t unfriendly, and she talked to people when they talked to her, but she didn’t seek out conversations and she retreated the very moment it wasn’t rude.

            Dave’s team was friendly and easy going and she found herself smiling as she watched their dynamics in action. It was easy to observe, but not as easy to engage. Derek and Penelope were bickering back and forth over a movie that was actually a personal favorite of hers, but she was too shy to step in and join the jovial conversation. She felt a pang of loneliness that had nothing to do with being alone. She felt a tightening in her chest as she thought about how irrational this entire emotional thing she had going on was. Her uncle had gone through all this trouble to introduce them all, to bring her into his inner circle of friends and teammates and she felt like she was being a wet and strange blanket.

            She used going for more ice as a reason to duck into the main house for a bit of a breather. While she was inside and away from the noise, she stepped into the main floor bathroom and just stood leaning against the door for a moment with her eyes closed. She was irritated with herself for being so damn jumpy. There was no reason for it. After a few, deep, supposedly calming breaths, she walked to the sink and ran the cold water. Washing her hands, she thought about splashing her face but vetoed the idea. She didn’t want to disturb her makeup.

            AJ looked at herself in the mirror and curled her lip at the stupidity. Didn’t want to disturb her makeup? Good Lord, she really took the cake on bullshit today. Wow. She closed her eyes again and bowed her head, her shaky hands gripping the edge of the granite sink. _We’re full of self-loathing today, aren’t we Adrienne?_

            “Jesus Christ, woman,” she murmured to her reflection when she reopened her eyes. “Pull it together.” She tried a smile, but it pulled at her mouth wrong so she stopped. Shaking her head, she took the opportunity to use the toilet before going back out. When she rewashed her hands, she avoided looking in the mirror again.

            When she came into the kitchen, she ran directly into a tall male figure who was trying to exit at the same time she was going in. Heart leaping into her throat, she jerked back and nearly fell as she tripped over her own feet. “AJ, it’s Aaron.” He was careful to not come toward her, though it was obvious that he wanted to reach out to steady her. She took a trembling breath and felt a horrible sinking in her stomach as she felt her face crumble as she burst into tears.

            “Oh, God,” she said, turning her back on him to hide her face in her hands. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m sorry.”

            “AJ,” he said gently and she could hear him coming around the counter. She tensed, more out of embarrassment than anything else, and she could hear him hesitate. That made her feel even worse and she could feel her shoulders hitch in a sob. “You have nothing to apologize for. Dave sent me in for ice and I wasn’t paying attention. I’m sorry I scared you.”

            She laughed and shook her head, feeling a little out of control. She wiped at her face, quickly trying to reign in her raging emotions. “I told him I was coming in to get it,” she said and looked at him finally. “I guess I’m a little more on edge than I thought I was.”

            “It’s all right,” he smiled at her, though his expressive eyes were concerned. “It’s a bit much with everyone here.”

            “You can say that again,” she sighed and rubbed her temple. “I really am sorry. Uncle Dave invited everyone over to meet me officially and it was supposed to be a happy get together. Here I am being jumpy and weird.”

            She felt a hand on her arm and she looked up at him. He was standing close enough for her to smell the light, crisp scent of his cologne. Instead of making her more nervous, it calmed her. His eyes were steady as he looked into hers and his mouth fell into the solemn lines that she was already recognizing as his usual expression. Irrationally, she had the urge to reach a hand up to touch the soft curve of his lower lip. AJ wrapped her arms around her own waist to stop herself from stepping into him. It was such a real and immediate need that it threw her. She never was one for craving touch, and since _it_ happened, it was even more difficult. Family was different, that contact was familiar and almost unbearably welcome when it did come. But she didn’t seek it out.

            “There’s nothing wrong with jumpy and weird,” he assured her, and there was the twitch of his smile. “It’s a lot to take in all at once if you’re not used to it. We really are a professional bunch, I promise.”

            “No one’s done anything wrong,” she started, then shook her head and sighed. “God, I’m… I’m just not good with meeting new people. Even before… before…” She still couldn’t say it.

            AJ swallowed and tried again, “I’m just really socially awkward. I always have been. It just seems like I’m even more of a freak now than I was before.”

            “Believe it or not, all of us have a bit of that social awkwardness. Most of us just hide it really well.” As if to punctuate, they heard what sounded like a battle cry from the back yard and Spencer’s indignant shout. AJ couldn’t help it. She started laughing helplessly as some of the tension was broken. It might be a bit of hysteria mixed in with the burst of humor, but she was unable to stop.

            Aaron was momentarily taken aback by the beauty of her laughter. It poured out of her, surprised, unfettered, and contagious. Before he knew it, he was chuckling with her. Her face was softened and flushed, her blue eyes light and shimmery with tears. He hadn’t felt such a strong urge to kiss someone in years.

            When he had come around the corner and startled her so badly, it had made his stomach sink. He had dealt with survivors before, more than his fair share, and he had gotten personally invested more than what was healthy. But he had never had such an immediate attraction to someone before. Maybe with Hayley at first, when they had been at the very, very beginning of their relationship. There was so much that wasn’t right about this. It was too soon. Things like this weren’t started overnight. AJ hadn’t left his mind since he’d had breakfast with her and Dave the week before. She was vulnerable and looking for balance after a life-shattering event. Even if she felt the same, it wouldn’t be easy. And there was Jack.

            He was relieved when they were interrupted by a laughing Penelope, who raced into the kitchen with clicking heeled sandals and a laughing request for lemons.

*~*~*

            “Dave was saying that you like to run,” Emily said casually, speaking to AJ when they were all gathered around the huge table Dave had set up on the back deck to eat.

            AJ swallowed the bite of potato salad she’d just taken and washed it down with a sip of tea before she answered, “I do. I haven’t had time to find a good route yet.” She didn’t mention the fact that she still felt like she wanted to throw up when she thought about going out running alone. _I’ve been watching you, Adrienne. I follow you on your run, watching the way your muscles move._ She shivered and hugged one arm over her middle, keeping the other on the table to toy with her food.

            “Hotch is a runner,” the dark haired woman supplied with a white grin. “And he lives a couple neighborhoods over, I bet he can tell you about some good trails.”

            Aaron narrowed his eyes over at Emily at her not so subtle prodding. But he was genuine when he turned to the woman sitting across the table from him. “I run every morning before work when we’re in town. If you’d like to have a running partner, I can show you some of my routes.”

            “That would be really nice,” AJ replied and felt her face heat up. She took another compulsive sip of her tea, more to hide behind her glass than because she was thirsty. “I’m an early riser so any time you’re ready is good. I still don’t have any kind of set schedule for anything.”

            “Speaking of,” Spencer took his opportunity and piped in, “Were you planning on taking up a class schedule? If you are, I can help you map it out so you can get your degree faster. I know a lot of the shortcuts.”

            “I- I haven’t really thought that far ahead. I have an accounting degree and an arts degree, but I settled on a job as a receptionist.” AJ’s grin was self-depreciating. “My hometown isn’t that big and it was easier to settle for something easy rather than relocate. Even though I can do accounting work, I don’t really like it very much. My dad was the one that talked me into it. And my art degree was just for me. I lived in a tourist town filled with artists, so trying to make a living doing that was a little useless.”

            “Like I said, kitten,” her uncle nudged her with his elbow and she nudged him back, “There’s no pressure to do anything until you’re absolutely ready for it.”

            “I know, Uncle Dave.” She pushed her plate back with a tiny nudge and her other arm crossed the one already wrapped around her waist. She exhaled slowly, then glanced over at Aaron, then back at Spencer. “I think I want to look into doing art therapy for people who have gone through the same… trauma… I have.” There. She brought it up. It had been at the back of her mind since she’d stepped into the group of happy people and it had eaten at her, stewing as she waited for the other shoe to drop. She waited for the pitying looks and the awkward silence. It never came.

            “Good for you,” Penelope said and raised her wineglass. The analyst nodded and her bright lipsticked mouth curved up in a warm smile. “I have contacts with a lot of people who work with rape and domestic violence survivors and I do a ton of volunteering. If you want, I can walk you through the process of getting started in the right direction.”

            AJ blinked, “That would be awesome. Thank you.”

            “Anytime, sugar. We’ve got you covered.” The rush of warmth behind her eyes shamed her and she blinked rapidly to keep them back. She wasn’t used to this kind of kindness and it seemed like it was second nature for these people to offer it. She was relieved when the conversation continued to flow, her uncle squeezing her hand as he launched into a story about his last wife and a disastrous visit to a gallery in Greece.

            Later, as she retreated to her little cottage, AJ drew a bath in the deep clawfoot tub under the giant windows in her bathroom and poured a liberal amount of lemongrass and lavender salts. As she sank into the near scalding water, she held her breath as her body adjusted to the temperature and thought about the evening. She was emotionally exhausted from the self-imposed rollercoaster of emotions she’d run most of the day, but she was happy with how everything ended.

            She lay back in the water and thought of Aaron, his face coming to her mind a little too easily. He had been a steady presence through the night, especially after their encounter in the kitchen. There had been something between them, a spark of sorts. He had felt it too, she saw it in those gorgeous eyes of his. It scared her. Not because she was worried that he was going to hurt her, or even that she was scared of being intimate with someone- although that last one was a bit nerve-wracking if she gave it any kind of steady attention. She was ashamed of what had happened to her, even though she knew that it wasn’t her fault.

            Plugging her ears and holding her breath, she slid under the water and stayed there until she had to come back up for breath. There were so many things going on in her life right now and she didn’t want to rely on anyone. She never had before. And why was she even thinking about this? When she came back up for air, she scrubbed her hands over her face and gave a bitter laugh. God, she was something else. Aaron Hotchner was a good man and potentially a good friend. “Stop seeing something that’s not there,” she told herself. “He’s probably married and you’re too screwed up to even think about dating someone. Get yourself together first, before bringing someone into your life.”

            Good advice, but she kept thinking about how gentle he was when he’d touched her arm in the kitchen and how she had felt when he'd stepped up close.

*~*~*


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :) You guys are awesome! Thanks for reading.

*~*~*

            “I want you to find someone for me. Her name is Adrienne McCoy.” Wallace York looked across his desk at the petite, well dressed blonde. She was in her mid-fifties, pretty as a picture with her careful makeup and stiff posture. Her full mouth was pressed into an angry line and her blue eyes were red from upset. Two spots of color dotted each otherwise pale cheek. The private detective had seen her like before, and he’d done what they’d asked with minimal fuss. She had shown up at her appointment, sat down, slid a folder with pictures and personal information across the desk toward him, and stated her intention.

            He took a moment to pull the contents out of the folder and looked down at the stunner of a woman with a shy smile and wide brilliant eyes that looked more turquoise than blue. The light had hit the young woman just right, turning her skin a pale gold and highlighting the classic features. Her hand was raised to tuck a loose strand of white-gold hair behind her ear, and he could see she wasn’t fragile despite the very feminine look. It was a candid photo, taken in a park from a bit of a distance with the lens zoomed in almost too far. Dressed in a pretty blue and white sundress, she was leaned against a picnic table with her legs crossed at the ankles. Obviously, she hadn’t known the picture was being taken.

            The next photo was of the same woman in running clothes; a pair of loose black yoga pants, a black and purple tank-top, black and white running shoes, and a lightweight sweater tied around her slimly curved waist. She was _built_. Long, muscular legs were frozen in motion, her toned arms locked in the typical mid-flight action. Her long braid tumbled over one shoulder to end somewhere around her waistline. Her face was reddened by the exertion of her run, but there was that same alluring smile playing over her lips. Her eyes in this shot were a cornflower blue that shone with good humor. There was no one next to her, she had headphones in, and this shot was from further up on the trail and a bit off to the side. Again there was the impression that the shot was taken while she was unaware.

            There were more like it, shot after shot of situations where she was completely unaware of the camera. Wallace laid the last one down on his desk, a shot of her in her back garden with her hands buried in potting soil, and looked at his potential client with shrewd eyes. “What is the backstory here? Is she someone you think your husband is cheating with?”

            “She killed my son.” Wallace blinked. Well, that was unexpected. She slid another slim stack of papers across to him. These were photocopies of the newspaper stories.

            “It looks like it was self-defense, ma’am,” he said after reading through the information. He remembered this story now. It was a couple months past. The young man had stalked and nearly killed a local woman. Ms. McCoy had somehow managed to get the upper hand despite taking a severe beating and ended up killing him in defense. Wallace couldn’t blame her.

            “Self-defense,” the woman parroted back, her tone incredulous. “That whore enticed him and then turned on him.”

            “The list of injuries on Ms. McCoy say a different story, Mrs. Hooper. She nearly died from his attack. Why do you want to find her?”

            “I want to bring her to justice. She deserves to pay for what she did and the police won’t do anything about it. Everyone has been taken in by the spell she’s cast. They don’t see the poison she has that swims just under the surface, infecting men to the point of madness. Then when she gets what she wants, she turns on them.” Wallace stared at the woman’s hateful face and saw the furious insanity rolling around behind her red-rimmed eyes. She was just as crazy as her son.

            “I can’t help you, Mrs. Hooper,” he said finally, though he really hated to let go of the fee that he could get for taking on the project. Cheating husbands, unruly college kids, uncovering insurance scam artists, he could do. This, though, this was just asking for bad and he’d learned from years of doing this kind of thing to listen to his gut. The older woman stood up, her chair scraping across the linoleum with a grating sound. Her fists were bunched with rage and he could see the fine tremors rolling through her slender frame. He apologized, managing to sound sincere, “I’m sorry.”

            “I’ll find someone else,” she said tightly and turned on her heel to stalk out. She left the envelopes with all the information still strewn across his desk. He picked up one of the photos and looked at the pretty young thing, hating the thought that she’d survived one crazy only to get another one on her tail. He leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling for a few moments, hating the place his mind was taking him. He didn’t have a lot of work on his desk at the moment. Bills were paid up because of a good run of luck the month before. He could always put this on the back burner if something that paid came in.

            He looked back down at the sweet-faced woman that looked like the same age as his own daughter, and swore. He reached for the sheet of personal information on Adrienne Jane McCoy, glanced over it, and turned to his computer. He needed to find her before Mrs. Hooper found someone who would do anything for a fee, regardless of the consequences.

*~*~*

            AJ moved through her warmup stretches as she waited for Aaron to show up. They had made arrangements to start their run before he went into the office for the day, which meant they were out at the very edge of dawn. That was fine with her. She raised her face to look at the slowly lightening sky and breathed in the fresh, damp air of very early morning. This was her favorite time of day when the world was still mostly asleep and everything was still so calm. She could hear the birds just starting to rustle and chirp and raised her arms up and back to stretch them out.

            She smelled his cologne first and she turned to greet him with a sudden riot of butterflies. AJ had been nervously looking forward to this ever since they had made the tentative plans last week. Barring a case that brought them out of town, this was going to be her new routine. As his gentle and friendly greeting washed over her, she knew that she could very easily get used to this.

            “G’morning,” she grinned, and hooked her hands together to pull them behind her back. Sleep wasn’t much of a friend these days so morning was more of a relief than she really liked to admit.

            “I thought we could do a loop around the neighborhood and then into the park system. I don’t know what your endurance is, but we can go until we’re done or we run out of time,” Aaron said, discreetly appreciating the easy flow of her stretches. She was dressed in black and dark blue, the fabric not form-fitting, but not baggy. He’d known that she wasn’t someone who ran because it was fashionable, but it was nice to see that she didn’t purposely dress to catch the eye.

            “I haven’t been running since before all the crazy,” she said easily and there was only the slightest catch in her tone, “I used to do about four miles, give or take. I’d break it up between morning and evening, going about an hour both times. I have no idea what my endurance is now.”

            “Well, let’s find out,” he said and gestured for her to precede him, and they started. She was quiet as they ran, keeping pace with him easily. As they hit the halfway mark and turned back, she sped up gradually until it was more of a full run. He pushed to keep up, feeling an exhilaration at not holding back for the last bit.

            When they arrived back at her cottage, sweaty and out of breath, he laughed and rested his hands on his shaking thighs. “I have to say your endurance hasn’t suffered.”

            She huffed and grinned back at him, straightening from her own resting slouch. “Do you have time for coffee and breakfast before you have to get ready for work?”

            He looked at his watch and nodded. “I think I can manage that. It’s nice living so much closer to headquarters. It’s only a ten minute drive in on a good traffic day.”

            He watched her body language carefully as he followed her through the gate and into the familiar path through Dave’s backyard to the little cottage. It was a beautiful spot, lush with greenery and budding spring plants. There were a few new iron ornaments and huge clay pots of brilliant blooms that hadn’t been there before. Her doing, he guessed. Dave was notorious for having a black thumb and relied heavily on his gardener and housekeeper to keep the plants alive and healthy. “You recently moved,” she asked, pulling the key out of the small zippered pocket in her thin hoodie.

            “About six months ago,” Aaron confirmed, “After my divorce, it seemed a little foolish to keep the house I shared with my ex-wife. I have joint custody of my son, so the three bedroom is plenty of space.”

            She felt a little jolt of awareness hit her and she went straight for the coffee pot to hide whatever kind of reaction she might have shown at the knowledge that he was unattached. She had wondered about Jack’s mother and where she was in Aaron’s life. He didn’t strike her as the type of man to cheat or to go into a situation, even a friendly one, with a woman that wasn’t fully aware of his not-single status. Lightly conservative and a bit old fashioned was how she’d loosely pegged him and she was happy to see that he was proving to be exactly that.

            “I just accepted an offer for my home in Oregon,” she said, reaching for the ceramic mugs to set them next to the brewing coffeepot. She went to the fridge and got out eggs, baby spinach, cheese, and a bag of sweet peppers. “Spinach scramble sound all right?”

            “Sounds wonderful. You need any help?”

            “I’ve got it, unless you want to grate the cheese?” It wasn’t hard for them to move together in the medium sized kitchen, first taking turns washing their hands, then setting about the tasks. She turned back to the conversation as she put a tiny slab of butter into the pan to sauté the peppers and wilt the spinach. “I guess it’s my old home. My dad took care of everything for me, which made it so much easier. I didn’t really want to deal with any of it. I thought about keeping it and maybe going back eventually, but I couldn’t even stand to be there for one night. For someone with no memories of what happened there, it felt like it strangled me. My parents had professional cleaners come in and purchased new furniture, but I could still…” Her voice trailed off with a shrug.

            “Places have a way of storing memories and energy even if you’re not directly tapped into it. I feel the same about my old home. It was one huge reminder of how much I failed at being a husband and a father,” Aaron admitted, not quite sure why he was telling her all of this. It wasn’t necessarily something you said to a potential love interest. And that thought brought him up short. Was he really thinking of her like that? He had told himself all through the last week that they were friends, that this was a way to help an amazing and fascinating woman to get her life back in order after a complete derailment. Attraction was there, but apparently he had fooled himself into thinking that he had pushed that to the back.

            She glanced over at him, her blue eyes clear and wide behind the thick black frames of her glasses. “I don’t think you’re good at failing at things, Aaron,” she said with a quirk of her lips. She shrugged and started cracking the eggs. “I can’t really say much for relationships though. With a few lapses in judgment, I’ve been a one-woman show for longer than I’d like to admit. My mother finally stopped harping about son-in-laws and babies about two years ago. My sister’s been convinced I’m a lesbian and I just don’t want to admit it. She told me one time that she loved me no matter what my orientation was, it was okay to just be myself. I was so shocked, I just stared at her for a couple minutes.”

            Aaron’s surprised laughter rang through the kitchen and he pushed the shredded cheese over toward her before wrapping it back up to go back in the fridge. “I bet that was an awkward conversation.”

            “Oh, God, it really was,” AJ’s laugh was sweet and husky as it joined his. She shook her head and added the cheese over the top of the browned eggs. She instructed him on where the bread was for toast and watched discreetly as his large and capable hands slid the bread into the toaster. He had nice hands, well taken care of despite a few scars and calluses that spoke of a character that wasn’t adverse to doing things himself. “I grew up in a small community and even though it’s not uber-conservative and it’s considered a touristy, hippy-ish type place, she thought I might be scared to come out of the closet and say that I preferred girls. For someone who’s known me my entire life, she can be a bit… narrow minded, I guess. I had no interest in boys in high school, and as an adult I had a few short lived relationships that ended badly, and then I decided I was better off not subjecting anyone else to my contrary and strange ways. In Annie’s mind, that somehow equated to ‘crazy closeted lesbian’.”

            “Here in the bigger city, we call that ‘independent and wise’,” Aaron teased. “You shouldn’t settle for something that’s not completely what you want or need.”

            “Thank you,” AJ said, taking the cup of coffee he had poured for her. He had doctored it with a splash of the coffee creamer that was in the fridge, remembering watching how she’d made it for herself before. “I’ll take that as confirmation that I’m not the only freak out there that didn’t want to marry the first bumble that came across my path.”

            She had a particular way of speaking that charmed him. She was quiet and reserved when she was in a large crowd and even one on one. Until she felt safe and comfortable, then it was like her personality blossomed out.

He was in serious trouble, he realized as they sat down at the small table to eat their breakfast. When it was time for him to leave, he actually had to force himself to say goodbye or else he wouldn’t have enough time for a shower. They talked for a few more minutes after that and she offered to send a go-cup of coffee with him. When he had accepted, she filled the black and orange plastic cup and added a drizzle of honey and a dollop of half-and-half that Dave had left for when he dropped in. “Try that,” she winked as she pressed it into his hands. “And you probably really should get out the door or you’ll be rushed.” They were standing close and he bit back the urge to kiss her smiling mouth. _Too soon_. He didn’t know how she would react to something so intimate and he didn’t want to crush whatever it was that was happening between them before it could actually go somewhere.

            She leaned up and kissed his cheek after she walked him to the door, her face flaming red as she told him, “Thank you, Aaron.”

            He could feel his own face heat up and there was that rush of warmth at the sweet and _friendly_ gesture. God, he hadn’t felt this way toward anyone in so very long. “No problem, AJ. Thank _you_ for breakfast. See you day after tomorrow?”

            “Yup,” she said and stepped back inside to close the screen door. “Give ‘em hell today.” Then the door was closed with a wave.

*~*~*  

           


	7. Chapter 7

*~*~*  

            AJ stared at the canvas she had just finally gathered enough courage to uncover. It was the one she’d been working on when her uncle and Aaron had interrupted her almost three weeks ago. She hadn’t looked at it, purposefully averting her eyes to the floor until she was behind it, then taking it by the relatively dry edges and setting it in a cat-proof corner for it to dry. She had successfully avoided looking at it until now. Heart pounding hard in her ears and throat, she delicately held edges of the cover and drew it up over the painting.

            Still not brave enough to actually look, she stood there on shaking legs with her eyes closed. She tried to keep everything even, to stop her mind from racing around like a hamster on a wheel, to not imagine what might be splashed across the white surface in paint. The colors she had been working with had been dark. Red and black with dark purples and some yellows, greens, and blues. But mostly red and black. She took a deep breath, held it, and then opened her eyes.

            She let the breath out slowly. It was a pair of eyes. A dark greenish blue with huge pupils and reddish yellow whites. Eyelashes were long and thick, curling up to touch the upper part of the socket. One eye was narrowed, a glare or a snarl, she couldn’t quite tell. There were no eyebrows, just thick lines that were surrounded in red and orange that bled into the background. It looked like she had just put layer upon layer of black and red paint speckled with sparks of yellow and white. She shivered and put the cover back on it. It wasn’t her usual style. It was too bold, too abstract, and too… something. It was just too much. She took it to the closet and slid it to the back, picking up Weasley as he tried to go inside with her.

            As she closed it back up behind her, she cradled the cat close to her chest and pressed her overheated face into his cool fur. He must have been hanging out by the window. She felt another weight curl up around her feet and she smiled down at Captain, seeing his golden eyes peering up at her in concern. He might be the more contrary of the two, but he knew when something was up with her.

            She placed the orange cat down on the back of the couch as she made her way into the kitchen to start the tea kettle for hot water. It was around six in the evening and she felt restless, not quite bored and not quite content with her options for the evening. Idly, she wondered if her uncle was home, or was going to be home anytime soon. She thought about going for a run by herself but that idea brought another quick jolt of uneasiness that she ruthlessly pushed away. Running alone wasn't going to happen anytime soon, and especially not when the sunlight was fading out so fast. She thought about calling Aaron to see if he was home from the office yet, to see if maybe he would like to catch dinner or a movie, or… something.

            As she paced her kitchen, opening and closing cupboards and thinking about all the things she didn’t want to think about, she heard the doorbell ring. She froze and looked over at the sill of the window nearest the breakfast nook, locking eyes with the Captain, who stared back at her as if to say, ‘Your call, Mom. Could be a weirdo.’

            Huffing a breath of annoyance at the spike of fear that shot through her, she still grabbed her keys on the way to the door, finger on the trigger of pepper spray her uncle had given her when he’d loaned her the keys to one of his spare cars. She had another canister on a clip on the strap of her purse, and one in the bedroom within reach of the nightstand. The bell sounded again, the melodic tune grating just a little on her nerves. Heart skipping, she peered through the peep-hole and nearly sagged with confused relief.

            She opened the door before Penelope could press the button again. “Hi,” the other woman chirped, a huge white grin on her face as she held out a gift bag and a vase of dahlias and Gerber daisies. “Are you busy?”

            AJ shook her head and stepped back so the analyst could slip past. “No,” she said, somehow finding a smile for the other woman. Penelope was dressed in a yellow and red sundress, a red sweater with huge yellow buttons down the front, and clunky red heels. Her hair was styled in two little puffs of blonde curls at the top back of her head with gold and red sparkler barrettes. She looked and smelled like sunshine in human form. AJ couldn’t hold onto her irrational, restless irritation in the midst of the other woman’s happy demeanor.

           “Good. These are for you,” Penelope thrust the vase and the gift bag into AJ’s hands and winked, “You seemed like the bright and sunny type, so I picked out some of my favorites to pass on.”

            “Thank you,” AJ said and buried her face in the blooms. She laughed and shook her head at the absurdity of it. “These are actually a couple of my favorites. Dahlias first, then daisies.”

            “Really? I’m the opposite. Daisies first, then dahlias. Small world, huh?” She spied Weasley sitting on the back of the couch, staring at the newcomer with a calculating stare. “Oh, my God, the cuteness! Come here, fluffy-butt!”

            AJ couldn’t hold onto her bad mood, not even if she tried. It left her fast, as did the usual shyness that came with being around someone she didn’t really know. “That’s Weasley and he loves everyone, but if he plays too rough, push him off onto the floor.”

            “Oh, so you’re a rough one, are ya,” Penelope said to the cat, who was purring so loud at this point that AJ could hear it from several feet away. She slipped her keys into her pocket and went to put the vase inside the glass hutch where it could be seen and enjoyed without getting knocked over.

            The tea kettle whistled and AJ asked her unexpected guest, “Would you like some coffee or tea?”

            “Actually,” Penelope said as she followed the other woman into the kitchen, “I was gonna ask you if you’d like to go get a couple drinks with me and the others. It’s a Wednesday affair if they’re in town. We go out as a teambuilding thing. Hotch even goes, it’s pretty cool to see the boss cutting loose once in a while. He usually doesn’t stay that long, but it’s fun while it lasts.”

            AJ wondered why her uncle hadn’t called to ask her if she wanted to go instead of sending their teammate to fetch her. It must have shown on her face because Penelope continued, “And Dave thought you’d be more likely to come if someone, other than him, was here to convince you it was a good idea.” Her wide smirk was contagious. “As the least intimidating and most persuasive, I volunteered.”

            AJ laughed and shut off the gas to the burner. “As profilers, you guys know your stuff, don’t you? I’m not really fit for a night out, Penelope. I’m…”

            “Restless, bored, and about to set something on fire?”

            “Wow. You’re good.” What little ice remained between them was broken and they fell into fits of laughter. Why the hell not? AJ shook her head and said, “Do you mind waiting for me to shower and change? It shouldn’t take too long.”

             “Get on with your bad self, mama, I’ll just stay here and harass your boys. They are boys, right?”

             AJ chuckled and said, “Yeah, the other lurker in the shadows is the Captain. He might come out at some point, but Weeze is squishy and social enough for both of them.” Then she left the other woman to the cats and went in to shower.

             She ran into a problem as she was getting dressed. All of her nicer, sexier clothes were low-cut. She stared at her reflection in horror at the remaining scars of the cuts her attacker had pressed into her skin. She touched trembling fingers to a particularly long one that started at her shoulder and ran across her breast and into the valley between. The only one she actually remembered receiving was the healing bite on the juncture of her neck and shoulder. Enough time had passed so that everything was healed, but they looked angry, red, and so obvious.

             The dress she was wearing wasn’t overly sensual, the fifties-style sweetheart dress was black with tiny white roses and a white belt that accented her waist. It was one of her favorites, but it showed her entire collarbone, part of her shoulders, and a small amount of cleavage. She had loved it because it looked amazing on her taller, curvier figure. Now, though, she felt herself blinking back tears as she rummaged through her closet to find something equally flattering, only not as revealing.

              There was a knock on her bedroom door and AJ froze in the act of throwing three more dresses toward the bed in a fit of anxious pique. “Hey, my chocolate god just called and said they’ve held a table for all of us. You doing okay in there?”

              AJ took a deep breath and closed her eyes for balance. Then she took a chance and went to open the door. Tears pooled as she looked at Penelope. “I can’t find anything that doesn’t show my chest.”

              There was a suspended moment of surprise, then Penelope reached over and kissed her cheek. “Let me help.”

              Ten minutes later, AJ was dressed in one of the other dresses she’d forgotten at the back of her closet. It was one that she had bought and hadn’t quite fit into comfortably no matter what she’d done. The recent stress-induced weight loss had done it and the dark netting around the bustline and shoulders fit the way it should. If someone stared closely, they could see the lines and welts of the healing scars, but Penelope had assured her that it was going to be dark in the club and anyone staring that close got exactly what they deserved. Which would be a fist in their eye from one of their wonderful, overprotective boys at the table.

                It only took another five minutes for the fashion-savvy tech to gel and style AJ’s loose blonde waves into a Marilyn Monroe type style with a red poppy from her own ensemble to pin back one side. Red lipstick and cat-eye eyeliner finished the look and by the time they left and she slipped on the low black heels, Penelope was fanning herself and sparkling. “The boss man is going to have a coronary,” she sang as she let AJ into her car and scuttled over the other side before she could form any sort of response.

            The moment was lost as they pulled out into traffic and Penelope changed the subject, asking how tech-savvy AJ was. Hoping that her raging blush wasn’t too obvious in the dim lighting of the car, AJ answered, “I can answer email and surf the web a bit, but I’m not really all that good at technology.”

            “Oh, baby, I’ll have to remedy that right quick.” Then she launched into a different volley of conversation and they finished the short ride talking about theater and had agreed to meet up for a showing of _King Lear_ that Penelope had gotten comp tickets to for doing makeup for the opening week. They were laughing as they got out of the car and headed for the door, showing ID while Penelope called Derek to tell them they were there.

            The music was low key and the crowd was manageable as the dark skinned agent met them by the bar to guide them over to the two tables their group had pulled together in the corner. No one really cared to be in a booth, and it was just easier than fighting over who had to sit on the inside. The moment Aaron saw her, he froze, drink halfway to his mouth. His eyes widened and a slow smile eased across his face.

            “There’s my girl!” Dave wolf-whistled and stood up, kissing her cheek and taking her jacket to place over the back of his chair, which he slyly gave up to sit next to Spencer to leave her next to Aaron. It was too smooth for her to object and her face flamed as she realized that everyone had picked up on the attraction between her and their unit chief. She _had_ heard Penelope right earlier when she’d said the boss-man was going to have a coronary. _Oh, God._

            “Hotness!” Derek exclaimed and followed the older profiler’s example by kissing Penelope’s temple, then hers as he flowed with a couple shots’ worth of impulse.

            “What’cha drinking, pretty ladies,” Dave asked and Penelope clapped her hands together.

            “Blood Orange Negroni,” she said, bouncing on her feet. She nudged AJ and said, “She’ll have one too. They’re made with gin and are stellar.”

            Dave raised his eyebrows and AJ shrugged with a half-smile, “Sounds good to me. I can go with you…”

            “No, no, kitten, you stay here, Reid’ll help me,” Dave said and ushered her into her seat before she could protest. The lanky genius grinned lopsidedly and said a quick greeting before being pulled across the bar to help carry the drink orders.

            “Where in the world did you find that dress,” Emily asked, eyeing the black and red material with gleaming black eyes. “That has got to be one of the hottest things I’ve seen.”

            “Bettie Page,” AJ felt like her face was on fire. She wasn’t used to this much attention and while she appreciated the compliments, it was a little overwhelming. “The online store has a ton of stuff like this. I bought it a couple years ago and I haven’t had occasion to bring it out. I love the pinup style.”

            “Looks good on you,” JJ piped in. She looked a little envious, “I, however, can’t pull off the pinup look.”

            “Whatever,” Emily rolled her eyes and nudged her friend. “With Pen’s help, we could totally sex-kitten you.”

            “You look really nice,” Aaron murmured close to her ear and she startled, looking up at him with an embarrassed smile.

            “Thank you,” she whispered and toyed with the napkin in front of her. He was still dressed from work, only missing the tie and jacket. The collar of his light blue shirt was undone and the sleeves were rolled up to mid-forearm, which she recognized as his casual look. She wondered what he looked like on the clock. His cologne teased her nose even in the crowd and she found herself relaxing as she soaked in his presence. It should worry her that he put her at ease so smoothly, just by sitting next to her; just by looking at her with those dark amber eyes. She was in deep trouble, she realized and not for the first time. It was a reoccurring thought when her inner musings turned to Aaron Hotchner.

            “Two Blood Orange Negronis,” her uncle announced, placing the cocktail glasses in front of AJ and Penelope, “Three Jack and Cokes, three Pina Coladas, and respective shots of whiskey, rum, and gin.” Spencer plunked down the shot glasses next to the respective drinks and took his place between Penelope and Dave.

            When everyone had their drinks and was settled back down, Dave held his shot glass up and waited until everyone mirrored him. “Here’s to a job well done.” He looked at AJ and touched the back of her hand with the fingers not holding up his shot. “And here’s to strong and beautiful women who beat the odds every day and walk away with their heads held high with grace and beauty.” He saluted the three other women at the table, then tossed back his shot.

            The rest of the group followed suit, tossing the fiery liquid back with a collective grimace and a couple cheers. AJ took hers in one giant swallow, immediately following it up with a sip from her mixed drink. She wasn’t much of a drinker and the alcohol numbed her throat and stomach quickly. Belatedly, she remembered that she hadn’t eaten since around noon when she had forced herself to eat a bagel. It was too late now, however, and she settled back to quietly listen in on the flowing banter between the group.

            Penelope tapped her hands on the table suddenly, excited as a familiar song came over the speakers. “Oh, my, God! I love this song. Come on, babies!” She grabbed Derek with one hand, and Emily with the other, who grabbed JJ, who snatched at Spencer on the way out to the floor. AJ chuckled and felt relieved that they hadn’t managed to get her into their chain. She was much better with sitting back and watching the others. She stood up and held onto the back of Aaron’s chair for balance for a second. While she hadn’t been looking, most of her second cocktail had disappeared. “I’ll be right back. Bathroom run, then a stop at the bar. You guys want anything else?”

            “I’ll meet you at the bar,” Aaron said, standing up with her. He pressed a warm hand to her back, sliding his fingers around to rest on her hip as they walked through the crowd. The place had filled up since they’d gotten there and it was nearly packed with dancing figures. AJ’s stomach felt strange as she walked nearly tucked into his side. When it was time to duck into the hallway leading to the restrooms, she felt a keen disappointment that he had to leave her.

            Thankfully the line wasn’t that long and AJ was able to duck in to use the toilet rather quickly. As she stood washing her hands, her eyes strayed to the black mesh covering her neck and shoulders and compulsively looked for signs that her marks were showing. She sighed and shook her head, touching a damp finger to the black line showing under the sheer material. No one else would be looking so closely, she reminded herself, but some of the glow of the evening fell away. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and slipped back out of the small room and into the hallway.

            As she turned the corner, she nearly ran into an unfamiliar man who automatically reached out to steady her. He was too close, and she stumbled back automatically, crying out as her ankle twisted in her heels. “Are you all right? I’m sorry, I didn’t see you.” AJ got a look at his head and didn’t make it much past the sandy blonde hair that fell into his forehead. She saw someone other than the twenty-something young man that had reflectively reached out to stop her from tumbling backward. Her throat closed and sheer terror blanked over her senses. All she could hear and feel and see was the man that had assaulted her.

            “L-let me go,” she said, trying to tug herself out of his hands, which had gone to her elbow and waist in an attempt to keep her from falling. Panic rose, swift and terrible and she twisted in his grip. She wanted to gag at the sudden smell of copper, the taste of blood filling her mouth as her nearly healed wounds throbbed all over again.

            “Whoa, there lady, I’m just trying to help. Are you all right?” She didn’t hear any of it and she pushed at his chest, a scream welling up. _‘Don’t act coy, AJ. You know what I’m here for.’_

            “AJ?” Aaron’s deep timbre sounded just behind the man and an unconscious sob escaped. Everything blurred and it was as if she blinked and she was tucked back away from the crowd, sitting down at a back booth with Aaron squatted down in front of her. His sharp eyes took in her pale face and he touched his fingertips to her chin. In the background, she could still hear the loud thumping bass of the music. Her head throbbed in time with it.

            “Are you okay?” She hung her head, feeling sick. “AJ, honey, I need you to talk to me. Are you all right?”

            “I- I’m sorry,” she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut. Her voice sounded hoarse, as if she’d been screaming. For a horrible second, she wondered if she _had_ been screaming and just hadn’t realized it. She swallowed hard. “I can’t even do a night out right, can I?”

            “Hey,” he said gently and she raised watery eyes up to his. He looked worried in the dim glow of the bar lights. “You were startled, sweetheart. It’s a natural reaction after what you’ve gone through. If it would have been JJ or Emily they might have taken him out for pulling a stunt like that. When someone is obviously frightened, you don’t hold on.”

            He called her sweetheart. She felt her face crumble and before she could stop herself, she was falling forward and into his arms like a bad romance heroine. He stood and gathered her up without missing a beat and she buried her face in his neck. With her heels, she was only about an inch shy of being at eye level with him. It didn’t seem to bother him as he stroked a hand down the back of her hair and wrapped one arm around the small of her back, keeping her pressed against the front of his body.

            “It’s okay,” he murmured against her temple, inhaling the scent of her shampoo. “I’ve got you. You’re okay.” They stood there like that for what seemed like forever, AJ letting the feel of his steadiness envelop her in the feeling of security. The scent of his skin chased away the lingering taint of copper and the warmth of him slowly sank into her icy core.

             She pulled back when she heard Dave come around the corner, his strident voice preceding him. “AJ? What happened? Are you all right? Emily just told me she saw you getting accosted in the hallway.”

             “I- I,” she stammered, suddenly so tired that her tongue felt like lead. It felt like her words didn’t want to work and she just wanted to sink into the floor and disappear. “I just want to go home.”

             “I’ll take you,” Dave and Aaron said at the same time. Dave seemed to notice how Aaron’s arm was still around his niece’s waist, fingers neatly resting on the curve where side met hip. If it wasn’t for the fact that AJ looked like she was about to either faint, vomit, or both, he would have gladly endorsed sending them on their way. He trusted Aaron to look after her, more than he would anyone else other than her own father, but he’d never be able to live with himself if he didn’t see her home and safe himself.

            Aaron could see it in his face, and he nodded reluctantly. “Give me a text to let me know you made it safe, all right,” he said, hooking his index finger under AJ’s chin to lift her face to look at him again. She offered a weak smile and nodded. “I’ll see you in the morning?”

            She nodded again and was transferred over to her uncle’s side. Taking a couple steps made her twinge as she put weight on her twisted ankle. “Hang on a second,” she murmured and reached down to slip off the heels. Now noticeably shorter, she carried her shoes and leaned heavily into Dave as he skirted the dance floor. He looked at Aaron and gestured back toward their table and AJ’s coat. With a nod, the younger man went to fetch it, meeting them by Dave’s car.

            After helping her into it, he said another goodbye and went to step back. AJ stopped him with a hand on his arm. She looked at him solemnly for a long moment, then raised up to kiss his cheek, right by his mouth. “Thank you.” He nodded and stepped back, purposely not watching them drive away like a lovesick puppy.

*~*~*

 


End file.
